When he was properly exhausted out from his experiences, Sephiroth simply lay beside Seferia quietly, almost motionless save for his chest, which was rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His heart was still pounding in his ears and he was utterly exhausted but he didn’t care at all.
Hell, the world could have been on fire at that moment, and he wouldn’t have cared. He was exactly where he wanted to be, and that was all that mattered to him.
“It is… fun…” He managed to mumble out, rolling onto his stomach, shuffling up against her. Deciding that his own energies were more important than continuing to keep his wing out, his wing dematerialized shortly afterwards, a few stray feathers fluttering down on him, on Seferia’s stomach, and on the mat around him.